Shattered Visions
by gravediggy
Summary: This is an expanded interpretation of Dota 2's Lore. Please visit the PD forums under Fiction and Literature for the thread.
1. The Field Tender

For the full thread please visit Shattered Visions at PlayDotA Forums

Pudge slowly guided the donkey down the cobbled path through the town square. His wife and child lie await in the carriage along with the goods they are to sell in the market.

After helping set up the stand, Pudge said to his wife.

"Take care now; I am to meet Lord Ostarion. He will want to know how his ancestral land stands." and bade them farewell.

Pudge walked by himself to the gate of the Spired Castle. A guard halted his approach.

"Halt! What business do you have here peasant?"

"I am to see the Lord Ostarion about the state of his lands." Pudge said.

"What lands do you speak of? The King rules the whole kingdom!"

Pudge was about to answer when a voice behind the guard spoke.

"Let him pass, he means no harm. His name is Pudge, and it would do you good to remember him. He is loyal and trustworthy, a good example to you all. Besides, he is close to the King's heart!" a very tall man, richly dressed in scarves and robes of furs and chains gold and gems adorned.

"My Lord! I am humbled."

"Don't be!" Ostarion placed an arm over Pudge's shoulder, "How goes the old estate?"

"Very good, my lord. My family is taking good care of the fields."

"Good to hear! Good to hear! Come; walk with me in the palace garden."

Pudge strolled with the King through the gates, into a garden rich with various trees, shrubs, and herbs, fountains and decorative waterfalls. Pudge's mouth was wide with awe.

"I'm glad you like my garden. You can take your family with you here before you go back if you like."

"Nonsense, my Lord! It would be too much! I feel I've already bothered you enough as it is!"

"You are too kind, Pudge. I wish there were more people like you. Tell me. Have you seen anything strange at the border

lately?"

"The border, my Lord?"

"Yes."

The estate that Pudge tended sits a fair distance away from the rest of the kingdom, near the border of two other kingdoms that have no liking for the King.

"None so far sire, but I do see more frequent smoke and disgruntled birds in the forests between."

The Kings face grew serious.

"Pudge..." the King stopped walking and bowed his head.

"Yes my Lord?"

The king turned his head in thought, then straitened up with a smile.

"Keep your family safe. Run back here if you feel you are in danger."

Pudge was silent with the strange words.

"Forgive me, I must go now." The King strode off.

The King's words stuck to Pudge's mind as he was once again back in the field. Days passed but nothing happened, yet still,

a dread grew in Pudge. Then one day, it came.

"Father! Father! Look!" Pudge's son came calling him from his bedroom.

The tell tale sound of marching men greeted Pudge as he rushed out. A seemingly endless stream of armor clad soldiers was marching down the path through the fields, towards the border. Pudge approached, and asked.

"What's happening? Are we at war?"

"Back off, peasant! Go home!" a man on horseback shouted at him. Then the man galloped towards him and kicked him aside.

Pudge went back home, told his wife and son to stay safe and lock the house. He then went to the top of a hill to see as best he could what was happening. Fires roared and consumed the forests and distant fields.

The ground was charred where what looked like an unending line of soldiers stood face to face. A distant horn sounded and the men ran towards each other with a frenzy. Arrows flew and fires spread.

The hours passed by but there was still no clear winner. Countless bodies were strewn about in the charred ground. The blood spilled was so much that it turned the battlefield muddy. The survivors were thin now and many were too tired to continue. Stragglers started to leave; many of them were coming towards his house.

Pudge dashed back home, called for his wife, and locked themselves in. They lay in wait, then a loud knock came from the door.

"Open up!" The men outside came calling.

Pudge called out.

"Please sir! We are but poor! Take what you can from the fields but we have nothing more to give you!"

The knocking just became louder.

"OPEN UP!"

Pudge hid his wife and son under the bed, and then with a slaughtering knife behind his back, he opened the door. A sharp strong hand immediately knocked Pudge down.

The soldiers rushed in and started ransacking the house. An armored soldier stood over him, kicking away the knife.

"But, my Lord! We are on your side!" Pudge begged.

"Is that why you're gonna ambush us with the knife? Take everything you can boys. We are not going home empty handed from this war."

"My Lord!"

"Shut up!" the soldier said, kicking him aside. "Now where is your wife? I'm in need of a woman's warmth!"

A couple of men approached them, with, Pudge's wife and son in strangled tow.

"NO!" Pudge screamed.

"Got a little runt eh? And your wife ain't so bad either... Where's the bed?"

A soldier tipped his head back to the bed room. "In there, sir."

"Good, give her here, and kill the dog and his pup!"

Pudge could not help it but reach for the knife on the floor. A soldier kicked it away then booted him in the face. Pudge however, with a grunt, reached for the soldier's sword and ran him with it.

With a new found strength in fury he swiped and slashed at them. The men were too tired to fight back this angry farmer, and so fell, one by one. The leader soldier and another put a blade to his wife and son's necks in defense.

"STOP!" the soldier ordered as Pudge fell another man.

"We will kill them, you know!"

Pudge stopped and started to lower his sword. Finding courage from his Dad, the son struggled with his captor.

"No!" Pudge bellowed as he tried to reach, but the men saw this as a threat and killed them both as he ragingly approached.

With his wife and son dead, he went outside, with tears and wails. He spent sometime alone, crying, when a man came

forward.

"Pudge? What are you doing here?" Pudge raised his head, and was greeted with the face of the King, scar strewn and blood soaked.

"This is my home sire... My wife and child are dead, killed by our own frenzied men!"

"Good! I need you to do something!" the King wasn't listening, his eyed wide with and red themselves.

"My Lord..."

"I need bones Pudge!" the King held Pudge's face in his hands. "Bones! I don't care about the flesh, but bones! Bring me bones! And I can revive your wife and child!"

"Really, my Lord?"

"Yes! The Death Prophet said it! Bones! Now! As many as there is!"

And so it came to pass that Pudge came to gather the corpses in the Field of Endless Carnage.

Decades, then centuries passed and the bodies still lay un-decomposed for Pudge to clean. He had heard that the land was cursed by a Witch to remind the maddened King of his wickedness and greed. But Pudge, loyal to his King, forgetting his purpose, ripped the meat clean from bone. Millions of bodies.

Then one day... There weren't any anymore.

Pudge, no more than a beast now, eater of human flesh, carver of corpses, had nothing more to do... Wandering about, he happened upon a familiar scent, the scent of war...


	2. The Red Blade

Heirim sat in meditation. His eyes glowing as he concentrates. Visions of the beast were getting more frequent.

'He must be getting closer...' he thought.

For a few centuries now, he had been meditating intensely to cover his beloved island's location.

The beast, powerful enough to be treated by other beings as a god, was incredibly powerful, incredibly greedy, and getting closer. Its thoughts, as searching and endless as its tentacles. It searches for treasures still, leaving no stone unturned, even attacking settlements.

"Master! Someone has broken into the vaults!" Someone shouted, breaking Heirim's meditation.

With a few men in tow, low into the Great Temple's base they descended, into the Vault of Treasures and Taboos.

The Searching Beast's mouth, which serves as the vault entrance lay open. Inside, the multitudes of candles cast a silhouette on a small masked figure with what looked like an ancient blade in his hands. The child was slowly doing stances, the traditional village warrior sword dance. Heirim, intrigued, approached and asked the child.

"Who is your master?"

The child stopped, surprised, then bowed low.

"No one, sir." he softly replied, his rough carved mask muffling his speech.

"How did you learn your stances then?"

"I watched the other men practice it sir."

Hurried footsteps from behind grew louder.

"Master!" a man dressed in long layered robes said.

"Priest Ramak?" Heirim was surprised that the Priest knew of the break in later than he did.

"Forgive my son Master!" Ramak went between Heirim and the child and knelt low in apology.

"He is but a child! Punish me instead!"

Heirim raised his brows, hidden behind his angry-looking, tentacled mask. The 'Visage of Vengeance' the title of his mask, and his honor, given to him by the village elders after he had single-handedly defeated a kraken.

Heirim fell into thought.

Breaking into the Vault, though impressive, for the Searching Beast does not open its mouth to the unworthy, is still a capital offense punishable by death or banishment. Heirim weighed his options. As village Chief and Master his judgment must be exact and fair.

"The lightest punishment for this is banishment. Though you may be in part to blame, it is common knowledge that the Vault is forbidden."

Heirim then approached and knelt in front of the child.

"What is your name?"

"Yure, Master." the child spoke.

"Did you know that the Vault is forbidden?"

"Yes." he softly but resolutely said.

Heirim touched the boy's chin and looked him in the eyes.

"Did you know that the Vault was forbidden even before you came here?"

"Yes." he said again with a finality of conviction.

The Priest begged further.

"He knows nothing Master! Please have mercy!" he whimpered.

Heirim stood, silent.

"The child appears to be aware of his actions, thus I have no choice but to banish him."

"Master!" the Priest sobbed, clutching his son.

"But," Heirim continued,

"I cannot in good conscience banish a child to the dangers across the seas. Therefore for now, he will only be banished from his own home, and made to stay at my House, to serve and train until he is found strong enough to survive the outside

world. This is my sentence, and it shall be. Take the child."

Heirim watched Yure practice in the garden. It has been a few weeks since he had taken the boy to his home. The boy had so far shown a great affinity to swordsmanship, learning months worth of technique in a few days.

It greatly puzzled Heirim why the Searching Beast had let the boy in, and why, of all the blades in the Vault, did the boy pick the heavy 'Defender'. Soft careful thuds on the wooden floor grew louder. It was Priest Ramak. He slowly approached

Heirim then sat.

"I have yet to thank you Master, for sparing my son's life." he bowed.

"No need. Have you made the preparations I've asked?" Heirim dismissed.

"Yes, the Blood Gods will accept the request." Ramak straightened himself.

"Good."

They watched the boy do high low swing combos on a reed dummy.

"Who's the boy's mother?" Heirim wondered, he never knew Ramak had any relation with a woman.

"Gone, Master."

"Dead?"

"No, just gone. Left without a word. But she did leave a keep-sake."

"Keep-sake?"

"A gem."

"Hmmm... I trust that you haven't been yet anointed Priest during that time?"

"Not yet Master... Master?"

"Yes?"

"When are we going to start the 'ceremony'?"

"How long would it take?"

"About 50 years to gather the requested amount."

"That much? Then we start immediately."

"I take my leave then." said the Priest and left.

For years, and decades, the boy, now a grown still trained. Heirim pushed him to learn how to be destructive as a tornado, yet caring as the spring breeze. To have a body that could rise to the heavens and a mind that could be deep as the sea. As Yure trained, his mind started to get curious, and he started to ask questions.

"Master?" Yure asked one day as they were eating, "I hear the blacksmiths are getting busy making hundreds of weapons, are we at war?"

"Not yet. You will know when the day comes."

Yure looked thoughtful hardly touching his bowl.

"I also hear from the other warriors that there was to be a ceremony to be held at the Temple."

Heirim paused a bit, and then answered.

"Yes."

"What ceremony is it then?"

"Yure... you haven't touched your food."

Yure fell silent and started to eat. Heirim knew it was only a matter of time. He needs him to stay pure and focused. He must not let Yure's thoughts be clouded if he is to master the Omnislash.

The Omnislash, theoretically, was a series of slashes so fast that it appears to be everywhere and nowhere at the once. In Heirim's mind, the Omnislash was their only hope to defeating Maelrawn, but he also knew very well that it would take more than technique to kill a God. It would also take a deal with the Devil.

The visions keep getting more frequent, more painful, even attacking Heirim in his dreams. It was only a matter of months now, Heirim feared, before Maelrawn finds their island.

"Master?" Yure suddenly asked Heirim one day again while eating, "Why do we need to give sacrifice to the Flayed Twins?"

Heirim's eyes widened in alarm.

"How did you know that? Who told you?"

"I heard it once when you and father were talking."

Heirim massaged his forehead in frustration.

"Well I guess you have a right to know... The Flayed Twins, grants 'favors' to anyone with the right price of blood. The sweeter the sacrifice, the better the favor you can ask.

"So, what our favor?"

"To have a blades that can kill Maelrawn the Tentacular."

"Maelrawn!? You mean the God, Maelrawn!?"

"He is not a God! He is a greedy beast. A monster. And he must be stopped."

"I see, so can I come to the ceremony then?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you are not done with your training, only honored warriors are to come."

"..."

"Listen Yure, whatever I do, I do for the sake of the village and for you as well. I only ask that you trust me to do what

I must."

"Yes... Master."

"Now, on the day of the ceremony, I forbid you to leave this House. Understand?"

"Why?"

"Do you understand? Yure?"

"Yes... I understand Master."

"Good."

That night, Heirim stayed awake. He thought over and over how if he had been clear with Yure, and if he had been successful in stifling his curiosity.

Then he felt a presence. He heard no sound, nor saw anything move, but he felt a presence run by his bedroom. And he knew exactly who it was. Quickly he went to the roof and scanned the way towards the Temple. There, as he knew, was Yure nimbly jumping up the Temple sides and into a window. Heirim gave chase. The Temple guards lay unconscious on the floor as he passed them by. And the Searching Beast, was agape.

He thought he would find him in the Vault, but he was nowhere. The boy knew more than he expected! He ran to a secret hatch at the corner of the Vault and there in a large secret room, he saw Yure gazing up, with the look of horror on his face.

The room was full of bodies with people of and animals of varying ages suspended in reed rolls all over the wide walls. In front of the each body was a healing totem to prevent the bodies from rotting. Half of the suspended appeared to be breathing still, only barely kept alive by the totems. In the center of the room was a very large cauldron with a ring of large bladed weapons propped against it.

"Yure..." he said as he slowly approached.

Yure's head whipped around, and his eyes even went wider. His mouth was open, but he could not speak.

"I was exceedingly merciful to you, when you first broke in the Vault. Remember that?" Heirim started to pace around.

Yure could not answer, his knees went weak, and he fell on his backside.

"I could not give you the same sentence twice, which means that you would have to die."

Heirim drew a sword from the cauldron.

"Defend yourself Yure." Heirim said as he took a stance.

Yure shakily stood, and drew himself a sword. The terror on his face was pitying.

"Remember what I taught you."

Yure was trying to compose himself when Heirim suddenly vanished from view. A split second glint of metal to the side then a sharp rap on the head sent Yure flying. He scrambled on the floor as Heirim menacingly stood. He had just knocked Yure with the side of his blade.

"Focus, Yure! See but be unseen!"

Again Heirim vanished.

Yure closed his eyes and tried to focus as he stood again. Blood was trickling down his face. He felt Heirim's presence coming like a bullet from the back and he was barely able to turn around and raise his sword in time to parry. A high pitched twang of metal resonated in the room. Heirim was face to face with him.

"Good!" he said, then vanished again.

"The sword is not the warrior's greatest weapon." an echoing and disembodied voice of Heirim said.

Yure felt a crushing force from above and dodge rolled to the side. Heirim came crashing down with enough force to crack the floor.

"But his mind." Yure said as he stood again.

Heirim simply smiled, then closed his eyes a moment before opening them again with light pouring out. Yure did the same and a rising wind seemed to emanate between them as the resumed their stances. Then suddenly, they vanished at once. What seemed like a hundred twangs and sparks resonated in the center of the room in a span of a few seconds. Then out of it Yure suddenly came crashing out with blood and bruises all over his body. As Yure struggled to stand, Heirim stood beside him, his blade pointed as Yure's neck.

"You're still not ready, and I regret that you never will be." Heirim said as he raised his sword for the final strike.

Yure just closed his eyes.

"Master!" Priest Ramak screamed as he saw the two.

He ran towards them then bowed and kneeled, offering his neck.

"My life for his, Master." Ramak said.

"This is the second time you interrupted me Ramak."

Heirim lowered his sword, and silently thought for a moment.

"Very well. But it is not I who will draw the blood. Call the Flayed Twins, Ramak! Offer your life to them to enchant this blade!" Heirim ordered.

Ramak stood and took a wide pan of water and immediately spoke incantations. He took a chicken from the walls and slit it's neck on the pan.

Heirim helped Yure stand then gave his sword to Yure.

"You, will draw the blood of your own father."

Yure was speechless, and did not take it.

"Do it Yure, if may choose to die I want to be by your hand." Ramak said turning to face them.

"Is it done?" Heirim asked Ramak.

"Yes Master, the Flayed Twins arrive."

The blood from the water rose to the air and gradually formed what appeared to be two heads with shining red eyes.

"Is it time for the feast?" a head spoke looking at Ramak intently.

"Not yet my Lord." Ramak bowed,

"But we offer a small meal to whet your appetite."

"Hmmm. For what favor?" the other answered.

"To enchant a blade to pierce the skin of the God Maelrawn."

Heirim raised the sword for the head to see. It was silent for a moment.

"And the meal?" both of the heads asked.

"My own blood my Lord."

"Hmm... Fair." the first head said.

Heirim thrust the sword into Yure's hands.

"The Flayed Twins do not like waiting." he said.

Yure limped to close to Ramak, who was again kneeling and bowed. Yure raised the sword, with tears in his eyes.

"Live for me Yurnero. Live my son." Ramak said.

The Flayed Twins' mouths opened wide to accept the sacrifice. With a sobbing scream Yure brought down the sword on Ramak's neck, the head rolling clean off.

The blood rose and flew to the Twins' mouth, who seemed to savor every drop. Their eyes then shined brighter and seemed to grab the sword from Yure's hand, seeming to add an enchantment. Then the blood heads vanished with a splash on the pan, the blade dropping on the floor, glowing.

Yure sobbed.

"Your father gave his life for you. Do not waste it. Take the blade and leave the island. You're true banishment from 50 years ago starts now. Go! Before I change my mind!" Heirim threatened.

Yure did as he was told. Heirim was left alone in the chamber, when another attack on his mind came.

"HeIrImmmm" the voice said.

"DId yOu rEallY thInk yOu cAn hIdE frOm mE?!"

"I will kill you beast!" Heirim telepathically said, then he cut the connection.

Heirim sounded the full alert. The town went alive and the ceremony was acted.

For days and weeks they prepared, setting up defenses and enchanting weapons and the town in self of all manner of voodoos that can help. Heirim mobilized the sea and air fleets to spread out and patrol the whole island. They would rather risk getting discovered by the outsiders than die without a fight.

Then one day. As Heirim slept, a clear and malice filled voice boomed in his head.

"I'm here!"

Heirim sprung from his bed and blew the alarm horn next to his pillow. Hurried footsteps from all around town turned into marching and much jangling of metal from armor, weapons and cannons. The whole island was ready.

A few moments passed, and the deafening silence was unnerving. Then one of the scouts shouted.

"There's a tidal surge from the north!"

Heirim, with his scars showing on his incredibly muscular but nimble shirtless body, equipped with two man length blades sheathed to his sides, and two poled blades on each hand, called.

"All men converge to the north!"

Then another scout called.

"Another surge from the south, Master!"

"TWO!?" Heirim gasped. He could not believe it.

"Everyone! Concentrate defenses in the center of the village! The Temple will be our keep! Move!"

Concerted marches and relay shouts were heard all over town. The surges were visible now and were quickly homing in on the island. The surges looked small at first but as it neared a few of the ships they were immediately capsized by what seemed like a mountain of water. Tentacles shot out from the 'mountains' and sunk ships in seconds.

"Magic archers! Fire!" Heirim shouted.

A volley of enchanted arrows flew to the surges and explodes violently. Monstrous screams were heard and the water finally subsided to reveal two giant beasts of tentacles. They reached the island's banks in no time.

"FIRE AT WILL!"

All manner of magics, cannons, and arrows burst forth from Heirim's men. Beast flesh flew and blood splattered all over, but the relentless beasts still advanced.

"Infantry! CHARGE!"

A concerted army of mean with glowing blades diverged from the Temple. One by one the men suddenly vanished followed by a fountain of blood drawn from the beasts. The beasts crumbled, their tentacles and monstrous forms cut down to size. Then, finally, the beasts stopped moving. The men screamed and rejoiced in their victory. Heirim could not believe that mortals were able to defeat a God!

Then a sharp painful image of a great pit with a crown of tree-sized teeth shocked his mind.

"DIE!"

All at once the ground cracked and an endless amount of tentacles, some with the same with as the Temple flew up from the ground. All at once the army was shattered. The island itself crumbled as it was engulfed by the tentacles. Heirim dodged tentacle to tentacle, spinning with blade fury on the massive members.

The enchanted blades seemed to be able to cut through but the tentacles were just too large and hard, cutting through solid ground like hot knife through butter.

"CONCENTRATE ON SINGLE TENTACLES! FOCUS YOUR ATTACKS!" he screamed, hoping that some of his men were still alive.

The tentacles continue to tear at the island, a few seemed to be decapitated, but more just keep on coming. Heirim's pole blades started to crack through the enormous stress of his slashes. Large explosions whipped through the forest of death, fired by the air and sea fleet. Many of the tentacles were destroyed.

"Do you defy a God?" the painful voice said again in Heirim's head.

"You are no God! You are nothing but a greedy beast!"

"Fool! You think I came for you treasures!?"

"Then what DID you come for?" Heirim dodged a couple of tentacles that shot like cannon fire at him.

His fleet was also being reeled in and destroyed. There was nothing but ocean for miles so there was really nowhere to go.

A giant pit rimmed with teeth, like in Heirim's vision, appeared where the temple used to be. It spoke with a deafening growl.

"I CAME FOR THE GEM!"

It reeled into its mouth sections of the island as well as the fleet. Nothing seemed to be spared. Heirim remembered Ramak mentioning a gem. He wasn't sure though if it was that gem in particular. But even if it was, it probably went down along with the Temple down the beast's throat.

The sea had advanced all around were the swallowed island used to be. Maelrawn had consumed almost all traces of everything Heirim held dear. Discarding his now broken poled blades, he drew the two long bladed swords he still had. He figured the monster's weakness is probably its inside.

From tentacle to tentacle, Heirim jumped up to directly above the mouth pit and with his greatest roar he plunged straight down, disappearing in a great flurry of slashes, down, down.

Down.


	3. The Pit Ascendant

Demon Witches, they were called, though anti-demon magi would have been more proper.

Hired banishers of evil, they have grown into a profitable industry for the past few hundred years.

From the humble guilds of a few enthusiastic youths, they have grown into a school of their own, the very first school in fact, to teach magic in its proper form.

The Grandmaster of the Demon Witch art, Head Magus Lion, closely watches the school's continuous growth over the years. The recent fledglings that have been enrolling however, continue to use magic to serve their own ends.

Though the Demon Witch art is a very specific study, focusing more on demon capture, control, and banishment, it does not take too much of a stretch of imagination to apply it to more, heinous acts.

Old and frail, Lion was the third Head Magus to serve in the more than 400 year existence of the school, has grown weary and impatient to find a worthy heir.

With the current state of things, none may very well be.

But one day, something else did.

Crashes and thuds followed by cries for help exploded from what Lion assumed to be one of the classrooms.

As he was lowering the book he was reading, a disheveled man came bursting through the door.

"Head Magus!" the man said.

"What the bloody hell is happening Finker?!" Lion demanded, irritated.

"A d-d-d-demon! Carl did it!" Finker stuttered.

"For crying out loud Finker! You are an instructor in a Demon Witch school! Can't you do anything?"

"I f-f-fear it's too powerful for me! I think it's a sovereign!"

"A sovereign?! A student summoning a sovereign?!" Lion stood and marched out, "Get out of my way!"

After exiting the office, Finker overtook Lion as they ran down the hall. Down near the end, it looked like the whole school wanted to peep in from a smoking door.

"Clear out! The Head Magus is here!" Finker called out to them, his arms flailing.

The students ran away as Lion with menacingly loud steps approached. Two instructors and two students were in the room when Lion entered. They were backed up behind a corner, with hands up to maintain a protective ward.

The room was really hot, and when Lion rounded the wall, a large, red skinned demon, with flaming skin, stood at the center of a summoning circle. It looked, disinterested at the huddled group then its eyes widened as it saw Lion.

"Is anyone hurt?" Lion asked, though the words were hard with rage.

"No head master!" one of the instructors answered, then he gulped, "Carl and Culween are not to blame!"

"We will deal with that later! Leave!" Lion snapped, with an angered look.

The four scrambled out, apparently more fearful of Lion than the demon. Lion took of his outer robes and composed himself in front of the demon.

"That won't be necessary..." the demon then suddenly, but calmly said.

"Oh but it is demon!" Lion raised his hand with glowing magics swirling.

"I see you're not in the mood to talk." demon said.

"Talk?! What do you think this is?!" Lion growled in anger.

"I came not to fight, but to offer you, a wish..."

"Wish?" Lion did not lower his arms.

"Call onto me when you are, more amiable..." the demon produced a black mirror from his flames. Then it appeared to be sucked into the mirror until it was no more.

Lion sat in his study in deep thought. He had just reprimanded Carl who was blamed for the summoning. Though he was impressed that a student could summon a demon, and no less a sovereign, still it was against their school's teachings. Carl however, seemed to think he got off easy.

Maybe...

Lion had no interest in punishing students at the moment. The mirror lay heavily in his hand. Is this the miracle he had been waiting for? A literal deal with the Devil?

His age, giving him wisdom to know that no good could ever come out from such a deal, was also nagging him that if he was to act, he must do so soon. Who know how long he had left to live?

He was already way past the normal age of dying. Every breath he took might just be his last. Lion stood, marching out of the room, the mirror hidden in his sleeve.

Using a flying charm called 'Shooting Star' for it was very much what it looked like, a very advanced spell invented and therefore unique to Lion used for chasing down more powerful Demons.

He sped across the skies to a distant mountain range.

The sea wind howled from the caved ruins and caverns that acted like organs in the ancient and assumed sacred grounds of the Wailing Mountains.

Lion strolled through the petroglyphs and carvings of the stone structures. He had read many books about an ancient civilization that once flourished when it made sacrifices to Gods, Gods that Lion thinks, were really Demons in disguises.

The civilization first grew, with each mountain growing into a city-state, with each serving its own 'God'. Eventually, the city-states grew too different and each, dreaming of conquest and expansion, declared war on each other.

Lion instinctively went to the most famous mural in the complex. He had read the books but seeing it with your own eyes was a different feeling in itself.

It was the most controversial of all the stories from the walls, for it featured a 'God' that many believe to still exist. It was the God Maelrawn, the 'God' who could turn into a monster and the one credited for actually destroying the civilization, using its tentacles to drill out and reach within the caverns of the Wailing Mountains.

Lion believed it was probably a tall tale, for 'sightings' of Maelrawn were from drunken scurvy-ed sailors at best. Demons however, were very real. Lion had hoped to see insight in dangers inherent in dealing with demons, but other than this far-fetched account of the Ruins, no literature could be found.

Lion took the mirror in his hand, and weighed it. It glinted and felt warm, as if it knew what was going to happen. Lion with all his old might threw the mirror into the abyss of a cliff, hoping it will be smashed and be forgotten.

But as it was whirling in the air, it burst into hot flames, growing large and flying towards Lion, then finally spewing out the vile demon that it had sucked from before.

"You called?" the demon said, standing in front of Lion.

"I didn't Demon. I don't want to have anything to do with you!" Lion steadfastly said.

"Really? You haven't even heard what I had to offer yet." the Demon said, feigning to be hurt.

"What you could possibly offer me that I would want?"

"Something that every man your age would, youth, power, and immortality."

Lion was shocked, silent. Is it serious? The greedy old man in him, had leaped in delight. He knew what power Demons hold, and those things are indeed within their ability to give, though of course, always with a heavy price.

"Do you really take me as a fool Fiend?!"

"No, I actually take you as a very sensible man. Would you really trust the future of the school to selfish children? And what's more, no one has to know, but I guess you already had thought of that one, seeing were already leagues away from everyone else..." the Demon observed.

"But at what cost? You wish to take my soul?"

"Your soul? And what am I to do with a soul? Nevermore might want one, or a lot, but I certainly don't."

"Then what would you demand if not a soul?"

"I am a very generous Demon, I only ask that you take something of mine, and then consequently shared it with others, that's all I ask." the Demon bowed.

Lion was definitely intrigued. His old curiosity was getting the better of him.

"Well?" he said, when the Demon was silent for a while, "What is this thing that I must share?"

"My soul."

Lion was caught off guard. Being a Demon Witch he was well versed in catching, manipulating, and banishing Demons and Demon souls. Does this Demon know that by offering its own soul to Lion that it essentially was surrendering its existence to him? Lion saw nothing that could go wrong with this arrangement.

"Agreed." he said finally.

The Demon quickly approached without warning then shoved its whole arm down Lion's throat.

Lion immediately regretted agreeing, he knew now he was going to die. The Demon, with it's open palm, pushed Lion's jaw to close over its arm. Fiery Demon blood spewed from the nub that was once its arm as it broke free.

Lion's senses could not take the pain any longer as he fell down unconscious.

Lion awoke to a bright morning. Oddly, his body felt very light and strong, unlike what he was used to.

He was surprised to find himself in his own bedroom. He then almost jumped out of bed, not used to his newly found strength.

He hastily went to a mirror, throwing away its drapes that he usually covered it with, not wishing to see a weary old man wither away day by day.

His mouth fell open with what he saw. He saw a very young man, apparently in his prime, handsome and strong. His legs weakened with shock and fell down the floor. The Demon had kept its promise!

Endless possibilities rushed through his mind. Being a Head Magus seemed petty now.

He quickly went to clothe his stark naked body. Just then, a maid went in his. She screamed a high pitched shriek. Lion instinctively casted a Silence spell on her, then Paralyze to keep her from running. With horrified eyes the maid was still trying to scream.

Lion looked at the maid. She was young and wasn't a bad looker. Lion bounded over her and closed the door. Apparently his youth had given him uncontrollable lust as well.

It was a very long time since Lion had felt the warmth of a woman's body. And as it drew on, his lust seemed to rub onto the maid as she too became vigorously 'cooperative'.

After quite some time, Lion finally went out of the office and into the grounds.

The students and instructors all stopped and murmured amongst themselves as he passed them. As he was about to fly with Shooting Star, a man behind called his name.

"Head Magus!"

Lion turned around to see one of his best instructors, the one closest that he would have named the next Head Magus if only he was not away on 'important quests' all the time.

"Aghanim, when were you back?" Lion looked down on his body, "How did you recognize me?"

"I was trekking down the Feral Road when I saw your Shooting Star. I followed you down to the Wailing Mountains." he said sternly, "It was I who brought you back when you had an 'accident'. I believe you would want to talk somewhere else?"

"Perceptive as ever." Lion smiled. "Try to keep up."

With a powerful blast Lion flew with incredible speed. He looked behind and was surprised to see Aghanim following closely behind. Lion landed on a desert called the Scintillant Wastes.

"Not bad, I didn't know you can cast my Shooting Star." Lion commended.

"I can copy any spell for a time, an essential skill when fighting Demons, something that you appear to have forgotten." Aghanim said.

Lion only smiled. "Have you told anyone yet?"

"No."

"Good."

Lion threw his hands in the air and a tornado of sand suddenly engulfed Aghanim. The tornado then quickly gathered and solidified into a ball of hardened rock.

Lion then casted an Explosion spell on the ball itself, essentially frying Aghanim inside, or so he thought. The smoke from the explosion was blown away by dispelling wind barrier that apparently had protected Aghanim.

"Please do not under estimate me Master, I specialize in duels as you know." Aghanim challenged.

"As am I, I taught you remember?" Lion grinned. The powerful magics he was using was churning in him and he felt a growing 'heat' within him. The heat seemed to gather onto his left arm, as it started to morph right before his very eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot let you live!" Lion groaned, struggling to contain the power.

Aghanim was only silent, his eyes looking alarmed at the now evil-looking arm.

Lion could not contain it anymore. The fires of the Hells themselves seemed to emanate from his arm. He thought he might as well use it. With explosive rage he released then unimaginable power towards Aghanim.

The powerful beam ripped through Aghanim's body as it was instantly incinerated.

Lion laughed with delight with his power as he again flew away with incredible speed. Aghanim's charred body turned into sand, and Aghanim himself reappeared some distance away. With terrored eyes he watched Lion disappear into the horizon.

"May the Ancients help us…" he whispered.

Lion sped through the skies in loops and barrel rolls, intoxicated in his glee.

Then suddendly, he felt his power drain from him, his skin growing wrinkly and his hair bleached old white.

He could not maintain the Shooting Star anymore, and he fell down the shifting sands with a bone breaking crash and tumble.

Lion, dazed and certain to die, again, frantically felt his clothes with his hands for anything that may help him live.

He found the mirror.

"Deeemon!" his raspy voice called.

The mirror, again, spewed fire and the demon materialized before him.

"Call me, Shadow Demon." it calmly and almost sneeringly said.

"Sha...!" Lion gasped and reached, "Help...!"

Shadow Demon, crouched beside him, holding his chin with his index and thumb.

"The deal was that you spread my soul to others, Lion. But not just any old soul would do, not anymore. The strength and power I grant you is in proportion to the power and influence of the soul you 'shared' it with. A maid is hardly a powerful soul, is it not?"

Lion rasped like a fish out of water. Shadow Demon stroked his head.

"There, there. Don't worry; I won't let you die... You may be wondering how else you are going to share my 'gift', especially if you intend to share with anyone that's not a lovely maid. There are quite a few methods but, to be simple, just think of me as an infectious disease, a very potent one at that. But spreading my soul isn't enough on its own; you have to let them know that it's me, that it's my power pulsing through their veins. I want a cult, understand?"

Lion was almost at death's door now, his body sagging. Shadow Demon raised Lion to the air by the head, shaking him like a rag doll. Lion almost passed out when his body was engulfed in flames that did not burn, but rejuvenated him, and he fell to the ground.

As his strength came back, he tried to reach for the Demon for he felt humiliated and used but it was no longer there. The mirror too was nowhere to be found.

Lion took a moment to recount the instructions. Although he did not like being used, he doesn't really have a choice now. And besides, he knows someone at Ultimyr that deserves some 'corruption'.

For years and years Lion had spread the Demon's poison of a soul like a plague and as promised, the Cult of the True Lord spread across the land, infecting the world of magi.

The Insubstantial Eleven sees the cult as a threat but has remained silent for it has grown too powerful too quickly, and its 'secret' nature meant that they were never sure who among their ranks were already corrupted.

Lion disbanded the Demon Witch School and instead became the head of the now powerful demonologists. Aghanim was nowhere to be found.

Lion's once young and handsome features, now grew grotesque and beastly, his skin turning purplish and growing stone like warts and spikes.

His power had an insatiable thirst for all kinds of excess including turning the once guarded and sacred technique of draining mana, once used against demons, into a corrupted feast on the weak.

There seemed no end to Lion's power, until one day, it was all taken away.

Lion was at his 'throne', whoring and torturing as usual, when all went dark and a pillar of fire materialized before him.

Shadow Demon, almost unrecognizable because of his increased size and more monstrous visage than before spoke to Lion not in his usual calm but with a raking and malignant croak.

"Lion! You have served me well, but you have long outlived your purpose."

Lion, with a flick of Shadow Demon's fingers suddenly grew frail and withered and looking much, much older and weaker than what he used to be before they met.

"W...Why?"

"I've no time for you, scum!" Shadow Demon bellowed.

"Children!" Demon announced, "Here is your Lord and Master! Throw away this filthy rag from my throne!" men immediately grabbed Lion and dragged him away.

Shadow Demon went forward and raised his hand.

Ready you weapons and your most potent spells! For tomorrow, we make ready for WAR!"

The whole throne room hall erupted in vicious frenzy and Lion was thrown outside into the mud.

Lion, pale, no, white and frail, his face sunken to a mere skull, dragged himself away into a forest cover. His anger had no peer, but he was extremely weakened.

There was nothing in his mind but revenge but right now, his state seemed bleak. He sucked dry all mana he could find, birds, beast, and magical trees were no match even to Lion's currently pitiful form. Then, he felt a very dark presence.

A very evil and greedy soul was roaming the countryside. Another Demon perhaps? Who summoned this one? But Lion dismissed such useless thoughts for now.

Using what little power he had gathered, he fired a fireball in the presence's direction, and hoped. A feeling Lion abhorred, but he nonetheless did.

An angry and evil scream emanated from a distance and the dark rushed towards Lion with incredible speed. Parting the trees, it was indeed another Demon, but Lion was unsure whether this was a stroke of luck or otherwise.

The pitch black form looked like a floating torso with smoke flowing around every inch of its form. It had a head of a ram's skull and stub at the back that may have been wings.

"You'll pay for that!" the Demon angrily said.

With a powerful blast of black energy, Lion was dead. His soul, leaving his body, he felt himself being sucked into the gaping mouth of the Demon that killed him. The Demon closed its eyes, expecting the sweet nectar of a soul to run down its throat any second now.

But then immediately, it gagged and coughed, and spat the soul back out. It wasn't at all tasty, but horridly inedible, even to Nevermore the Glutton of Souls, the Shadow Fiend. Lion's soul, certainly not meant for heaven, but also now refused by a Demon of hell, went back to its own body.

"What was THAT!?" Nevermore demanded.

"I bear the soul the Shadow Demon. I seek to have revenge upon him!" Lion rasped.

"Who cares about what you seek? The Umbral Pact is in danger! Lord Lucifash must know!"

Nevermore then seemed to suddenly be sucked into the earth like water in a sink. Lion, mustering what little strength he had left, ran towards the funneling Demon and dove in. Lion was thrown into a burning realm of smog, fire, and anguished screams.

Falling through what looked like a jetting tube of fire that snaked across the burning world and it's seas of lava and souls being torn to pieces, Lion felt an unbelievable amount of mana in the evil air.

He sucked and sucked until he had his fill, growing back the monstrous form, that he had a few hours before, but now missing, the Demon hand. Shadow Demon must have sucked it away.

The stream suddenly stopped and Lion was unceremoniously dropped on scalding floor. Nevermore, approached a very tall and dark throne, with a very menacing figure with burning eyes at its peak.

"Master!" Nevermore said, emulating a bow as closed that he could with his half of a form. "I have reason to believe that Eredar threatens to break the Umbral Pact!"

"Eredar?" the seated figure's very deep and guttural voice said, "I should have known, well he was being increasingly absent from his realm lately. Where is he?"

"Somewhere in the woods where I was hunting souls, I think." Nevermore uneasily said.

"You mean you haven't brought him here? And what were you doing there?"

"I was hungry master!"

"Useless shrimp!" the seated figure stood, now towering over Nevermore.

Clad in crimson armor and brandishing a flaming blade, Lucifer grabbed Nevermore by the neck with his free hand and rested the blade on Nevermore's neck. But then it lowered the blade down, looking thoughtful. He threw down Nevermore near to where Lion was.

"Make sure this is the last time you fail me, or I will gut the rest of your body. Lead me to him!" Lucifer said.

Then only noticing Lion, he looked at him with judging eyes.

"And who is this wart you've brought with you?"

"I seek revenge on the Shadow Demon Eredar! I know exactly where he is!" Lion answered eagerly.

"Really? Show me the way wart, and I may consider not killing you."

"I have already died once Lord, but I will dutifully oblige."

With a dismissive hand, Lucifer summoned a portal to the surface, and the three of them marched through. Immediately as the exited however, they were greeted with powerful blasts of magic.

Lion formed a protective palling as soon as he could to ward off most of the blasts. All around, hundreds of mages, and warlocks were surrounding the portal exit. A maniacal laugh came from the back of the magi army.

"You cannot stop me Lucifash! The Oralce had already shown me what will happen!"

"I will be the judge of that!" Lucifer said.

With a great burning arm, Lucifer scorched the ground beneath, and charged the magi line.

Nevermore, with hunger insatiable, let loose blast after blast of his black energy, feading upon soul after soul, then letting loose in a climactic explosion of death all the souls he had in his belly that he cannot contain, killing even more of the magi.

Lucifer, with his towering figure, swiped and grabbed at the magi, eating them whole then later casting the very spell those magi had earlier assaulted Lucifer with.

The magi's numbers where thinning fast and Eredar started to back away. Lucifer pointed a blast of curses towards the fleeing Eredar.

"You are DOOMED Eredar! You cannot escape me!" it bellowed.

Magical sigils appeared all around Eredar's body and on where he stood, but still he ran. Lion, seeing his chance, gave chase.

The churning energies of Hell that he had absorbed a while ago seemed to have a mind of its own, filling Lion with ecstatic joy and power.

His deformation gave Lion inspiration to invent a new spell on the spot, with a short blast of a curse he transform Eredar into a helpless frog, meaning to torture him for as long as he can. This spell allowed him to catch up, but the powerful Demon managed to break free after a short time.

Eredar, thinking that Lion could not possibly follow him, opened a portal to Hell. He was shocked to see Lion following closely in the fire stream. Lion saw this and said.

"I've been to Hell and back before Eredar!"

Eredar gave a weak smile.

"You cannot defeat me in my own domain!"

"You forget. I specialize in killing Demons more than anything else!" Lion answered.

Willing the very caverns of Hell to his will, Lion skewered Eredar with the glowing hot spikes and stalactites. Eredar struggled to break free but Lion merely added more as he also sucked Eredar's mana.

They were finally deposited by the stream onto a random ledge, overlooking a sea of magma.

"Doesn't this seem familiar Eredar? A place eerily reminiscent of this was where you first endowed me with your power."

Lion willed more spikes to permanently pin down Eredar in a spread eagle fashion.

"You will pay dearly! You were nothing if not for me!" Eredar screamed.

Lion willed a spike that went through his throat to gag Eredar.

"I will be taking it back, thank you."

With a hard tug, Lion ripped Eredar's left arm clean off. He then ripped his own arm off and attached the arm in place, casting restorative magics to permanently fuse it. Lucifer and Nevermore, appeared behind Lion.

"Impressive, wart. You have earned your worthless soul, for now... Leave us!" Lucifer commanded.

A portal opened near and as Lion stepped in, he had satisfied grin on his face as he listened to the suffering wails and ripping flesh of Eredar.


End file.
